Same Old Song
by omggcece
Summary: If he would just give her another drink, she'd be okay. - Tori&Robbie are tired of the same old song.
1. The Same Old Song

_There was a time_

_everybody was around_

_& I was dancing with you_

_-_Heartbeat, Annie

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The world was crashing down on her. It was crumbling, on fire, in ashes all around her. Her heart was beating so hard it felt like someone was smashing into her chest. If she could just have another drink, or something, maybe or forget everything that she just saw it'd be better. It could be better, and they'd be on his yacht like they were yesterday. Smiling, in love, happy. Or so she thought. She could feel tears burning holes into her skin, her skinny shoulders shaking.

"Please. Please, help me! Give me another drink! You don't _understand,_" she sobbed. She was hysterical now, falling too the ground.

The bartender rushed over too her, grabbing her gently and pulling her off the floor.

"Miss, I'm sorry. You need to calm down."

"_Calm down_? Are you serious? _Calm down_?" She clung onto the bartender with a firm grip, like he was Andre, like she wasn't going crazy, like she hadn't been abandoned. She tried her best to make him turn around, give her another drink, take the pain away. But he kept on dragging her too the bathroom of the club, a grim look on his face.

When he pushed her in, and she landed on the edge of the bathtub, she nearly jumped out of her skin. All of the sudden she was deathly sober; she was coming back to Earth. Everything that had happened that night. . .it all seemed so much more real. She felt so cold.

He closed the door behind him. Her eyes were closed, but she could hear the quiet sound of him walking towards her. A warm hand was on her shoulder. Her eyes fluttered open, her hands still rubbing up & down her arm.

"You - you have really long eyelashes," He stuttered out, his hands flying to cover his mouth immediately after. Despite the sinking feeling in her stomach a dry laugh climbed out.

"I'm sorry, I'm a creep." He was beaming after an actual laugh came out of her this time. "Can I," he took a pause, "can you tell me what's wrong?"

She took a deep breath. She shuddered again. "I - we - at least, I thought we were. . .I guess I was the only one happy. Me and Andre, my boyfriend - well, he may as well have been my husband. We've been together for years and I was pregnant, once."

"You have a child?" He blurted out.

"I miscarried," she murmured under her breath, goose bumps rising up on her arm. He opened his mouth to apologize for asking but she stopped him before he could. "Don't apologize! Andre didn't want a child, and neither did I. We're both focused on our careers. That's probably why we're falling apart. . .anyway, so today, I had a really bad day. I wasn't feeling well, Andre wasn't home, and I was angry. Then, I came here."

He managed to keep his mouth shut this time, waiting for her to finish. He wasn't going to say any more stupid comments.

The tears were coming back. "I found him with another woman." Something in her snapped all over again. She slid off the bathtub, landing on the floor with a loud thump. Everything was so _cold _and no matter what she did, she couldn't stop this empty feeling. Her and Andre had been together since they were teenagers, back at Hollywood Arts, and now they were in their mid 20s. It had been so _long. _Without him, who was she?

"Tori, please. Don't cry," he said gently, dropping to the floor next too her.

"How do you know my name?" She asked, and then she looked at him - really looked at him, and a flood of memories came rushing back to her. California summers spent in Beck's RV, at the beach, her house, smiles that weren't part of any contract, and some of the best days of her life.

"Robbie! Oh, my God! You're a _bartender _now?" The last part came out in a squeak, her eyebrows raising.

His expression darkened, and he slid farther away. "Not everyone can be famous pop stars like you." His hands were turning into fists now. He didn't look anything like the concerned, old friend she'd seen minutes ago. He looked like the angry, bitter bartender that was yelling at her she wasn't getting another drink.

"Look," she started, trying to apologize. When she was younger, she always apologized - it was easy as breathing. But now? She couldn't manage to do anything right. Just like her ruined relationship with Andre, the (three) miscarriages, her naïveté, everything. He was staring at her. She had to continue what she was saying. "I'm. . .surprised, okay. I'm drunk and heartbroken and fucked up and I wasn't thinking."

A smile was threatening to form on his lips. He stared at her arm for a while, debating on whether or not too put a hand there. When he saw the way her lips were trembling he placed a hand on her shoulder. "I overreacted. I'm sorry. Just, when people from my past find out what I'm doing with my life nowadays I get really embarrassed. But we're not talking about me - you're the one who needs someone." He smiled, genuinely.

No one had smiled at her like that in a long time. Too long. She was starting to feel warm again. "I. . .Andre & me have been through a lot. I don't know who I am without him. Does that make sense?" She clamped her lips shut, stopping the rest of the words going through her head from being said. Now, he had broken through her walls. He smelled, felt, _was _the Past. The Past was something she enjoyed living in. The Past was ten times better than anything in the Present. She was actually living, not existing. Every single thing was different, better than.

"I know who you are without Andre. You're Tori. Talented, amazing and. . .and beautiful." His cheeks became a dark shade of red after he said 'beautiful', and she thought it was the best thing she'd seen in forever.

Everyone she had been around lately - Andre, Trina, movie directors, producers, choreographers, Beck, Jade - they weren't, didn't feel _real. _Andre, deep down inside Tori knew something wasn't right. When they kissed or made love and her name wasn't coming off his lips. But when he was playing the piano and his smooth voice was belting out love songs alongside hers' she forgot about all of the bad things. Trina had eventually made her way to the top, but she'd gotten there by being on her knees. Willingly. She loved her but all Trina did was make her sick nowadays. Beck and Jade were pretty much the same as Andre and her. The spark? Gone. They were the same old song, overplayed and washed up. But it had been familiar, the good things about the relationships unforgettable.

She took a breath. So many thoughts.

"You really think I'm pretty?" Was all she could think to say after a long period of silence, in which his blush got redder and redder. He licked his lips, their hands brushing against each other's. She wanted this, wanted someone so simple and humble and down-to-earth. She wanted him. What was wrong with her? Why was she always falling in love with someone she shouldn't want, that was the question. If she hadn't asked Andre out, they would still be friends. Nothing would've changed. Maybe she would've met a nice, normal man who wasn't in another country all the time.

Like him. She gulped, feeling like she was swallowing the Titanic.

He nodded, slowly, probably trying to gauge her reaction. They sat in silence once again. The music was still pumping, louder as it got later. Funny how some people were having the time of their life, while they were sitting in the bathroom depressed and lonely.

"I wonder if Andre is still out there. With her," she whispered.

"Maybe. Do you really want to know either way? If he's not there, he might've went home with her. If he's there, he's obviously having fun. I think you should. . .move on. We're only twenty-six and have lots of time left too start over."

She thought over what he had said in her head. He was right. But she was never one to admit defeat that easily, so she then said, "Take your own advice."

His eyes widened. He gulped again. Then, he was laughing. Actually laughing. Before she knew it, she was laughing along with him. They were the kind of laughs that make your stomach hurt and tears well up in your eyes and - you don't forget those laughs.

"Thanks for that. Haven't done that in a while," he chuckled, putting a hand on her shoulder once again.

"No, thank you. I don't know what I would've done tonight if you hadn't taken control. . ." she trailed off, not knowing what to say anymore. Did she have to say anything?

"Where are you going to sleep tonight?"

"Um, I didn't think about that. I know I'm not ready to confront Andre. . .Jade and me are friends now but she still wouldn't let me crash with Beck & her. . .Trina is in Cancun for a photo shoot. . .my Dad would want to kill Andre. . ."

He cut her off, deciding it wouldn't hurt to say what he was thinking. "Why don't you just stay with me?"

She barely thought about it before she was saying "yes".

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A/N: this was just a random idea I got, haha. I hope you enjoyed it & will continue reading this story! And if you did, review please? :D it would make my day~ also, I'm totally bummed about Victorious only having 15 episodes left -.- but Sam & Cat sounds awesome. . .yay? :P


	2. Chapter 2

"_On a night like this. . ._

_Just wanna be together. . ."_

_-_Kylie Minogue, On A Night Like This

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"Thank you, Robbie," she whispered, still not able to look him in the eyes. She hadn't thought this through. . .not all. She sees Andre grinding up on another woman, talks to Robbie who she hadn't seen since high school, and now she was at his house sleeping over? _Taking clothes?_

"Where did you get woman's pajamas from? Do you have a girlfriend or something?" She joked weakly, elbowing him in the arm. But what she hadn't been expecting was he too look down at the floor and start hitting himself in the head.

"Shit," he kicked the wall. "I forgot all about Diana. . ."

A million thoughts started going through her head, one of the major ones being 'Who invites an attractive pop singer over to their house when they have a girlfriend who obviously lives with them?' So, she asked him. He rolled his eyes, stalking over to the kitchen. She decided to follow.

"It's complicated. She's not my girlfriend, but. . .she's not a friend either." Once he saw the expression on her face, he decided he had better explain. "I broke up with her because she didn't want kids, and I want kids. Diana didn't graduate from high school, though, and she doesn't have any family here so she has nowhere to stay and can't find a job. I let her stay here and she still seems to think we're together."

"That is complicated," she agreed, that cold feeling creeping up on her again. "Look, I've had enough trouble today. I'm gonna go back to Andre's and I house."

His eyes widened, and he reached for her wrist. "Tori, you can't go back. . .not after what he did too you. . .if you go back. . ." She yanked her wrist back, glaring at him as she threw Diana's gown on the counter.

"I'm not staying here with you and weirdo Diana!" She exclaimed, trying her best to regain her dignity. What had she been thinking? Her, Tori Vega, staying with a _bartender_? She laughed, bitterly, which was the only way she could laugh apparently. Ignoring his pleas for her to stay, she almost ran out his apartment, back into her old life, the sound of her high heels echoing in her mind.

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It was colder than she thought it was. The whole night she had felt cold though, so it wasn't that big of a deal.

Why wasn't she good enough? She was rich, talented, famous, could cook a good pasta, fell asleep at the dinner table waiting for him whenever he stayed late at the studio. She thought she had been doing everything right. It wasn't enough in the end. She stopped walking to take off her heels. It would take a while too get back to. . .their. . .house. Heels weren't going to help her at all.

A month (exactly thirty-one days) ago, life had been. . .perfect:

_July 31, 2012_

_The sun was shining down on them brightly; but it was the middle of summer so she didn't expect different. Their yacht was full of people but the only man Tori cared about was. . ._

"_Hey. What you thinking about?" He asked, his warm voice still able to make her giggle like it did years ago. His arms wrapped her waist, caressing the small bump under her sundress._

"_How much I love you," she said. He gave her a kiss. "How cute our baby boy will be." He chuckled in her ear. Kissed her neck._

_It was perfect, so perfect. Everyone else faded to the background - but per usual, moments like these only lasted for a second before someone interrupted. Only a month later, little did she know, her whole life would change. But she already, back then, had the feeling something wasn't right._

"_Andre, the party is fantastic!" Marisol Cotte, a Spanish singer who Andre had taken under her wing - in more ways than one - shrieked. The hairs on the back of her next stood up. Back then she hadn't known the reason, but she already had a problem with Marisol. But she had blamed it all on hormones._

_Andre's arms quickly left her waist, and she felt like nothing just that fast. He patted her head. "Tori, I'm going to go show Marisol around. You should go home, give you and the baby some rest. Don't wait up." He didn't even take the time too give her a goodbye kiss; he turned away, almost running off with Marisol._

_Andre had not been like this before. He had been sweet, and caring. . ._

_None of that would matter, though, after what happened later that day. When Tori's stomach lurched and blood covered the carpet in the lobby of their penthouse; when she was in an ambulance, alone, her baby boy. . ._**gone.**

She jolted out of her thoughts, breaking out into a cold sweat. No, she couldn't relive that day. That was the true beginning of the End. Once her baby was gone. . .

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When she finally reached her home, all of the lights were off. Their was a weird sound coming from the bedroom. . .it sounded as if someone was banging a hammer into the wall. . .and in the back of her mind she knew what it was.

It was with a sick curiosity that she made her way to their - what was their - bedroom, her whole body shaking. She had to see. Had to know, or else she couldn't believe it was true. That someone who was once her best friend could do this, here.

Marisol had her teeth sunk into Andre's shoulder, bite marks all over the both of them. Her legs, wrapped around his torso, and her head was hitting the headboard again & again & again. It looked almost painful. Their bodies were slick with sweat - but they seemed to be in pure bliss.

And she couldn't have just walked away. . .or left the door closed. Why was this happening to her?

"I hate you both!" She screamed, with all her might, picking up the lamp on the bedside table and throwing it across the room. She didn't bother to see where it landed or if anyone (he) was hurt. She dashed out of there as fast as she had ever ran, into the night, and she narrowly missed getting hit by a car. Maybe, if she got hit by a car, that wouldn't be so bad. . .all of this shit would be over, and if she went to Heaven her baby boy would be there.

This time, she was so broken, she couldn't even cry.


	3. Chapter 3

_I just want a window seat, I don't want nobody next to me~_

_-_Erykah Badu, Window Seat

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A fitting way to end the horrible day, on her walk home it rained heavily. There was thunder and lighting; bad driving, puddles that she didn't even try to avoid stepping in - her expensive dress was soaked through; she was confident there was paparazzi snapping photos even in the storm; and she couldn't get the damned mental image of Andre fucking 'his mistress' in _their _bed out of her head. They hadn't had sex since her miscarriage.

Her tears mixed in with the rain.

Most people would be cold, but she was so angry she felt nothing. She felt completely empty. What was there left to feel? Her life was fake. She was fake. Her marriage was fake. All she had left was her fame that she didn't even want anymore. Everything was unraveling all at once. She was losing her mind, she was sure of it.

She stopped in her tracks, gulping, wiping away her tears. Her legs were shaking. Her makeup was probably all messed up. She looked to her right, then her left. There. . .was a bar. One of those cheap dirty looking bars only people who were wanting to forget everything that happened this week went.

She barely thought about it before she was running in. One drink turned into three, three drinks turned into seven, seven drinks turned into twelve. . .the night blended into one blurry barely there memory. She slammed down her drink on the counter, blinking trying to regain her sight. Everything was so blurry. . .the red - or was it purple? - wallpaper blended into one gigantic blurb. She smiled goofily. It kind of seemed like it was crying along with her. She let a tear run down her face.

"Maybe you've had too much. . ." The bartender trailed off, drying his hands with a towel. "You gon' be able to get home tonight? It's raining an' thundering heavily." He patted his protruding stomach, raising an eyebrow awaiting her response.

She snorted in reply. Sure, after she could barely see he would ask did she have enough. "Too late. Already smashed," She mumbled under her breath. It came out in a deep, raspy voice matching the way her stomach felt. When her stomach twisted again she shakily got off the bar stool. "'M going now."

The bartender nodded, walking over to another customer. She took her time leaving, not waiting to lose her last bit of dignity. As soon as she walked outside, she felt like she was being attacked by the heavy rain and wind. She was so weak she almost emptied her stomach right there. But she didn't. She took the last bit of her strength too run over to a trashcan and throw up there.

"_Tori, you've never been a heavy drinker. Idiot," _she said out loud to herself. When she finally finished she still felt like shit. A small smile worked its way onto her lips; this whole situation reminded her of when she was at Hollywood Arts, and Trina & Jade had dared her to take a shot. And one shot turned into two, and so forth. That night had ended just like this one. . .the major difference was, though, that she had been at Cat's house puking her guts out with a concerned friend watching over her the whole night. What had happened to Cat? She hadn't seen her in years. She shivered at the thought of Cat being a bitter bartender living with a crazy hag named Diana like Robbie.

She slid down to the wet sidewalk, leaning against some drug store. She had threw up, but she still didn't feel sober yet. "That's weird," she said to no one but her herself. "I'm really getting lonely. . .I'm talking to myself now." Her thoughts were going through her mind at a dizzying speed.

Andre had been nice once. He used to write songs with her for Birthday Week and help her get over stupid relationships that seemed overwhelmingly insignificant thinking back on them. She rolled her eyes. He, he had asked her out first. She had denied them the first time he asked because she had a weird little fling with Beck at the time and didn't want to 'ruin their friendship'. But the second time he asked Jade had Beck back, for good, so she had accepted. He had been head over heels in love with her and she had mainly just been bored and liked attention.

When did their roles in the relationship flip? Her stomach lurched again. "Okay, Tori, you can't keep on sitting in a thunder storm talking to yourself like a lunatic," She said to herself once again. Wasn't their a bus stop nearby? She decided it couldn't hurt to see, so she got to her feet and started walking.

It turned out she was right, and there was a bus stop. There was no one there except her, and there was a TV that was on the news softly playing. _"Everyone should be at home, with their loved ones. It's coming down hard out here, and there was just a earthquake. Many people have lost power. . ." _She frowned. Would a bus come tonight? After an hour of waiting, she admitted to herself there would be no bus. She sighed, observing the area around her. There was an empty bench. And nothing. She whispered a silent prayer as she curled up on the cold uncomfortable bench, wishing for a miracle.

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"_Tori? Tor, wake up. . .please. . ."_

"_Robbie get your fat ass in the car! This rain is murdering my hair, and the weather man said we might have another earthquake!"_

"_Diana, I'm not leaving here without this woman!"_

"_Robbie, if you don't get in this car. . ."_

"_You're making me sick. When I get back to _my _house, I don't want you there!"_

"_Okay, Tori, I'm taking you to my place. . .please, please don't be hurt. . .please be okay."_

_._

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_._

"Thank you for checking her out, Dr. Cortes. Will she be okay?" He ran a hand through his black, curly hair, trying to make himself look somewhat presentable. From the fight with Diana and finding Tori passed out on a bench he was going crazy. Dr. Cortes smiled at him.

"For the last time, Ms. Vega will be absolutely fine Robbie." Dr. Cortes paused. His eyes darted around the apartment before they landed back on him. "May I ask what happened to Diana? It's hard to ignore all the shouting that has been coming from this apartment the last few months."

He paused to think about the question. Dr. Cortes was the nicest neighbor in his building, and had actually became a father figure to him. "Diana used to be the nicest girl. But lately, she's just been, I don't know different. . .and, there was another man."

Dr. Cortes couldn't stop his jaw from dropping open in shock. "Another man? Who? Do you know who it is?" Dr. Cortes walked over to the battered couch, flopping down on it.

"Her boss. She told me she was doing overtime, but apparently she was doing him." He laughed dryly. The corny joke made him think about all the dreams he had in high school. . .what had happened to those? He was going to be a comedian, a famous actor - and now he was a bartender. He sighed. "The fights just never stopped after that. Now, Tori, we were friends in high school.

I admit I always had a tiny crush on her, but first she had a crush on my friend Beck and she had a new boy-toy about every day. Then, I had another friend - Andre. He always had a crush on Tori but she wanted to be friends. One day though. . .he broke down her walls. Tori said yes, they started going out, and other things happened in our group that made us all start drifting apart. Next thing I knew we were graduating from Hollywood Arts, I met Diana, and I was a bartender and Tori, Andre, Beck, Trina, and Jade were all famous."

Dr. Cortes was blinking rapidly, trying to absorb all of the information. "That sounds extremely complicated. But I think I understand. You and Diana already had problems; then, your old friend who you still might have some feelings for comes back into your life. So now you are confused. Tori, though, you want to help Tori. Is this correct?"

"For the most part, yes." He was going to say more, but she came out of his room right after that. Her hair was messy, her eyes bloodshot, and she looked completely out of it.

"Robbie?" She croaked out, a small pout on her lips.

Dr. Cortes went over to her. "Hello there! I'm Dr. Emmanuel Cortes. Robbie had me check you out and make sure you were okay. You scared him very much." The doctor tipped his hat at her before he briskly walked out of the apartment.

She bit her lip, and croaked once again, "Robbie? How did I get here?"

**A/N; **I'm sorry for the wait, you guys. Thanks for keeping on supporting me~ J It was hard to write this, since it's kind of like a set-up chapter. Action happens next~! Are you excited? :O


	4. Chapter 4

_Come, come, come into my world_

_Won't you lift me up, up, high upon your love?_

_-Kylie Minogue: Come Into My World_

He gulped, looking everywhere but at her. Why was he so nervous? She was Tori Vega; they had known each other since high school. Sure, she was a famous pop-star now and just a little bit sexier than before and they hadn't actually talked in seven years. But she was still Tori. . .somewhere inside. "Dana called me too pick her up from this bus station she works at. Every place closed down last night because of how horrible the weather was. I happened to see you curled up on one of the benches, and I didn't want to leave you there because it's dangerous, just-"

"Robbie, thank you." She smiled softly, turning her attention to the kitchen. "Is that breakfast I smell? I didn't know you knew how to cook. . ." Before he could reply, she was practically running over too the kitchen, taking a plate and eating like she hadn't ate anything in years.

"Mmm, thank you so much! I haven't gotten breakfast in a really long time," she smacked her lips, and his breath hitched in his throat when she smiled at him again. He liked the feeling he got from making her smile.

"Why haven't you gotten breakfast in a long time?" He asked softly. He ran a hand through his black curls, still making sure he kept distance between the two of them. He could still remember the way Tori's lips trembled and her eyes watered as she talked about Andre's betrayal the night before. It still made him angry, what Andre had done. Who could cheat on someone beautiful as Tori?

"I like to look my best, for performances and stuff. . ." She trailed off, the smile disappearing. She had finished her breakfast, and now she was staring at her feet. He noticed just how skinny she was, how her legs were like sticks, and her arms looked like if you punched them they would break into pieces.

_I will fix her. I will take care of her, _he thought to himself. She looked up at him again and the sad look on her face brightened, as if she had heard his thoughts.

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"Robbie, Dana told me what happened. Are you okay?"

Her head snapped up, and she couldn't stop her mouth from dropping open. She knew that voice; she could never forget it. "Cat?" She rubbed her eyes and jumped up from the couch, hurrying over to the door. But Cat was different. Instead of her signature red hair, she had long brown hair. She had obviously gained weight, and she was holding the hand of a little girl.

Cat squealed. "Oh my gosh, Tori? I haven't seen you in years!" She dropped the bag she was holding and threw her arms around the other woman. The little girl looked confused.

"Cat. . .you're. . ."

"Different?" Cat finished. She laughed warmly, grabbing onto the little girl's hand again before she picked her bag back up. "Robbie, I made you some dinner since Dana left. I don't want you starving! And this little one here wanted too see her 'uncle'."

She started connecting the dots; this little girl had to be Cat's child. So most likely, Cat was married with a child. Cat did not have red hair the color of red velvet cupcakes anymore. Cat Valentine was an adult, with a child, and brown hair.

She felt sick.

Cat must have noticed the weird expression on her face, because she led her back over too the couch in the living room. "I just saw you on TV!"

"Oh. . .what did they say?" She asked, but she didn't need Cat to tell her. She already knew what the news stations were saying and what would be all over every gossip magazine - 'World famous record producer Andre, who goes by his first name only, caught in a cheating scandal with Spanish singer Marisol Cotte! But this isn't your usual cheating scandal - the woman scorned is Tori Vega, world famous pop star!' Her blood was boiling just thinking about it.

Cat made a 'tsk' sound. "Stupid things like you threw things at the two of them, threatened both of their lives, you walked around in the rain drunk. Don't worry. I don't believe any of it!"

She bit back a bitter laugh. Little did she know, all of that was true. She smirked remembering the blood trickling from Andre's nose. It was weird. The other woman gave off a vibe that made her want to spill all the stuff she'd been through in the last seven years off her chest. Did that come with being a mother, she wondered. She then decided it couldn't hurt too ask out loud.

New brunette Cat seemed to mull over this for a while, before she giggled and looked her straight in the eyes. She felt like sinking into the couch. "I guess. . .maybe. You know, Tori, being a wife and mother is one of the most fulfilling things in life. You learn so many new things. And - you change. As a person." Cat bit her lip. She twirled her brown hair around her finger for a second before she frowned and her face scrunched up like she was going to cry. She quickly put back on the cheery front she had. "I noticed you seemed shocked when you saw me. Is it the hair? I miss the red, too. But my husband said it would be weird on a 26 year old mother."

She frowned and rolled her eyes. "Who cares what he thinks? Do whatever you want too, Cat!"

Cat laughed again, and she couldn't help feeling annoyed. "For a marriage you need to compromise, I think. I let my hair go back to its natural color and he started doing chores around the house." She breathed in, then out. "I never thought I'd be a mother and wife at this age. I thought I'd be singing on Broadway. . .or a unicorn! Seeing you and knowing how successful you are makes me think about it again, to be honest, Tori."

She breathed in, then out like Cat had done. "I would much rather be happy with a family like you, then the messed up situation I'm in. My husband is at home messing with a common little floozy, it's all over the news, and I'm staying with Robbie Shapiro, my friend from high school!"

"Sometimes people find love in unexpected places," Cat chirped with overwhelming enthusiasm. The sound of Cats' child's and his laughter filled their ears.

She breathed in, then out.

"I sound old, don't I?" Cat giggled.

She couldn't help but giggle along with her old friend.

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"Why don't we share your bed? It's a king."

He choked on the soda he was drinking, his blush so powerful it turned his whole face red.

Hours had passed since Cat had left, and they hadn't said more than two words too each other. He had read his book and she had ran around the house singing songs from her latest album. He had the urge to ask questions like "When are you leaving?" and "You know you can't hide from the public forever, right?" and "Why are you so skinny?" and a lot more, but he didn't. He just pretended to be paying all his attention to his book while he was secretly melting from the sound of her beautiful voice. Now, it was getting late and he could hear the yawns in between verses; so he got his favorite blanket and pillow and stretched out, fully prepared to sleep on the couch and give her the bed. He would have _never _suggested they sleep _in the same bed_!

"Robbie, we're friends right? It's not like we're strangers. You and me are both two adults who can sleep in the same bed for one night." She gave one of her rare smiles and walked over to his bedroom.

"I guess I'm supposed to be following," he muttered to himself under his breath.

"Duh! Of course you are," Rex said.

Wait, Rex?

He clamped his (now sweaty and shaking) hand over his mouth. His Rex voice only came out when he was extremely nervous. . .

"Robbie, seriously, it's not that big of a deal!" He heard her yell from _his _bed.

With shaky legs, he wobbled up from the couch and tip-toed over too the bedroom. She was curled up on her side, a sarcastic looking smirk on her face as she waved her finger as if to beckon him over. The dress she was still wearing from yesterday was inching up her thigh ever so slowly. . .

He breathed in, then out.


	5. Chapter 5

"_It's this one thing you did-_

_And maybe I just can't believe it_"

_-_1 Thing, Amerie

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_._

There was a banging on the door; he took the opportunity too run out of his bedroom, away from her suggestive pose and her short dress that was running up her thigh and her messy hair that was somehow sexy to him.

He barely thought before he yanked open the door, didn't even bother to ask who it was. He should've. Because outside his door, there was Andre - Andre who he hadn't talked too in seven years. Andre who had an angry wife that he had cheated on in **his bed. **Andre who was glaring and had his arm in a sling and a slight limp as he charged his way into his house without even asking for permission.

He sighed, closing the apartment door behind him. This wasn't the same Andre he had known. . .this was a completely different one.

"Where's my wife?" Andre asked, opening every door there was.

He gulped. He needed courage. He couldn't just let her get hurt again. . .right? That. . .that was what a real man would do - defend her honor. "Why do you want to, uh, know?" He mentally smacked himself. A stutter, really?

Andre's jaw dropped open and he stalked over too him, close enough that he could see all of the tiny scars there was on Andre's face. "Robbie, come on! We used to be boys. So help your boy out." When Andre got no response from him, he came even closer. He took a step back, feeling like he was prey being sized up by a way bigger, way more powerful predator. Was this how worms felt about birds? Andre forced a smile, trying again. "Look, man, I ain't even do nothing! I was just chilling with my prodigy - her name is Marisol, she's a Latin pop singer, make sure you buy her debut album MARISOL. It's in stores now. And it's _always_ all caps - when Tori came home screaming for no reason at all! I tried to calm her down, but she was convinced I was cheatin' with Marisol! Then she was picking up lamps and stuff, and now, look, I'm _injured_! I need to talk too _my wife _and make sure she know if we're gonna be staying together situations like that can't be happening!"

As he was trying to process all this, a wave of regret washing over him for even getting involved in the mess, she ran out of his bedroom, screaming unintelligible things that were maybe curse words. She was waving around his plastic sea plant that had several spikes that he knew was dangerous; he had accidentally cut himself due to those spikes many times. He wrestled it out of her hands and tried to calm her down, but she was set off. Angry tears were pouring down her face and her face was turning red.

"You - you cheated on me!" She wailed, clinging onto his t-shirt, "and Robbie, even though he's wearing a worn-out t-shirt for some off-Broadway play I've never even heard of-"

"Hey!" He shouted out; a friend who was in the play had gave him the t-shirt earlier in the week. It was _so _not worn out.

"-Has cared for me more in the last 24 hours than you have in the last year! So what, I had miscarriages. Plenty of women have miscarriages! That doesn't mean you have. . .have too cheat. On me." She finished her rant, her breathing heavy and fast. She was still clinging on to his shirt, sweat plastering her hair too her forehead. He guessed it took a lot of energy too be an angry, scorned wife.

Andre's mouth was open in shock once again. "So this is why Robbie wouldn't help me. . .you cheating with my _ex-_wife!" Andre was so angry he probably would've punched him if his right arm wasn't in a sling. The door swung open, and his worst nightmare that was currently in affect got ten times worse - there was Marisol, the Latin pop singer who was Andre's mistress/'prodigy'.

She gasped and held on to his shirt even tighter. "Robbie, please, make it stop. . .I-I'm so tired of this. . .I just wanna sleep. . "

He gazed down at her, her lips trembling, her hair a mess, sweating, and tears running down her face. He was going to make this stop.

"Mi bella, what's going on?" Marisol purred, her eyes narrowed at the other two. Andre curled his free arm around Marisol's waist. "As soon as possible, Tori and me will be signing divorce papers. . .that's what's up." Andre kissed her cheek. "After that you'll be my wife." Andre grinned as Marisol giggled.

"You two, need to get out of my damn house," he said suddenly, a courage he didn't know he had surfacing. His voice boomed. "Andre, we were friends once. . .but we're not anymore." He walked over too the door and slammed it back open. "You disgust me."

When Andre and Marisol just stared him with shocked expressions, he raised his voice even higher. "Get out **now**!"

They scurried out, and he heard a few insults, but all he could focus on was the half-hearted smile she gave him before she walked back into his bedroom.

.

.

.

The rest of the night, he couldn't sleep; all he could think about was how he had finally taken control of a situation twice just in the last day. When Dana had been mean, he had told her off. When Andre and Marisol had marched into his house breaking her heart even more, he had kicked them out.

"I like taking control," he whispered to himself, a smile forming, ". . .I think I'll do it more often."

He couldn't get her small smile out of his head.

.

.

.

The next day, almost with perfect timing, Dana showed up.

It was 7:30 A.M., and she was still sleeping. He had only fallen asleep two hours ago and it wasn't even in his bed; he was playing computer games when he just fell asleep. It made sense. . .his life was changing in so many ways, in such a short amount of time. It was all stressful.

Dana's lips were, per usual, dark red, too match her long fingernails that were deadly weapons in the daily flights she liked too get into at work. Dana's hair was pulled back in a messy bun and she was wearing ripped jeans with a see-through tank top. He could see her Victoria Secret's push up bra. . .that was his favorite bra that Dana had worn on his birthday a few months ago, that he had the honors of taking off as she smirked and nagged him about how long it took him "too just take a fucking bra off".

His grip tightened on the door frame.

"So, babe," she adjusted her tank top, making sure he saw the thong strap peeking out from her jeans, "sorry for being a bitch on Friday. You gon' let me in? I brought snacks!" Dana held up the Dunkin' Donuts bag she was swinging. "And my sexiness," she added, winking.

Dana knew that wink made him weak. How, in the world, had someone like him ended up with a woman like Dana? _You have a decent apartment, _he thought to himself. Dana had admitted numerous times once she dropped out of college and was kicked out of her parents' house she went from guys to guys house's, only caring about a place too put her clothes and make-up at when she was partying or at one of her jobs she tended to keep for a few months.

"Dana, this isn't working out," he said quickly before he could talk himself out of it. "You should go."

Dana put a hand over her mouth, dropping the Dunkin' Donuts bag. "Seriously? After all that I've done for you?"

"All you ever did was cook!" Even he was surprised at his new found confidence. "I did all the cleaning, and since you were always losing your jobs because you cursed out the boss or something of that nature, I was the only one paying rent!" He took a deep breath. "You need, too leave. I'm sorry Dana. We've had good times."

Dana gave her one last angry look, before she swiped her donuts up from the floor and sashayed out the door.

He isn't and wasn't ashamed to admit he watched her until she started strutting down the stairs and he couldn't see her anymore. He was about to close the door when he heard a quiet giggle and a male saying, "Cat! Be quiet!"

"You guys," he sighed, running a hand through his hair, "I can hear you."

Cat, her husband, and her daughter - little Rania - emerged, matching blushes on all of their faces. "Sorry, man. We couldn't help overhearing," Cat's husband, Mike, who had gone too Hollywood Arts himself, said quietly. He could hear the laugh threatening to bubble up from Mike's throat.

"It's alright, you guys," he replied. Cat covered Rania's smirk. "You could've at least taken the donuts!" Cat exclaimed, eyes wide. Rania nodded.

Even though he was still in shock from what had happened, he couldn't help cracking a smile. Cat had changed, but there was still that silver of innocence & naïveté that made her. .her.

It was nice too know someone would always have good in themselves.


	6. Chapter 6

_She's spinning in my mind_

_She's always out of sight_

_She takes me to the clouds, look I'm floating now_

_-_Midnight Man, Austin Brown

He took another sip of his soda, smiling at her as she danced her heart out in the middle of his living room. Cat winked at him, patting his hand before she joined her.

It was a Saturday night. When he had got home after his long day at work (oh, look, another perk of being a bartender - even on your days off you were forced to work if someone couldn't do their shift) he planned on jumping into bed and sleeping his life away, but instead she was spinning around in newly bought clothes she had gotten.

"_New clothes?" _He had asked, raising an eyebrow. She smiled. His heart felt like it melted.

"_It seems like I'm going to be staying here a while. Unless you have a problem with that," _had been her reply. Oh, no, he could _never _have a problem with an attractive woman staying in his apartment. And maybe in an attempt to flirt (okay, definitely an attempt to flirt) he said just that. There was a little sparkle in her eyes. She walked over to him, taking her time, as if they had all the time in the world. Her long perfectly manicured nails tip-toed up his arm; he breathed in her perfume; he breathed in _her. _She opened her mouth as if to say something, anything, but didn't. She smiled even wider before she stepped back.

"_I want some music. I wanna dance. Call Cat!" _She had shouted, suddenly. Minutes turned into hours - time flew when you were having fun. Something him nor her experienced in what felt like forever.

He wanted to have so much more fun with her.

.

.

.

"Tell me about Diana," she says a couple of days later, when they're sitting in a park down the block from his apartment. It's early - six in the morning. Both of them weren't the best sleepers.

He choked on his diet coke; she couldn't help laughing as she patted him on the back. "Should I start the Heimlich?" She was dying laughing now, tears squeezing out of her eyes.

He shot her a mock glare, lightly pushing her shoulder. "But seriously. . . why would you want to know more about my ex?" Her laughter slowed. She wiped at her eyes. Her facial expression didn't give any hints too her feelings.

"I-" she started, taking a deep breath, "You and I have both went through some breakups with people we were in serious relationships with recently. I know what I feel like. I feel like I can't breathe sometimes, like a part of me - my whole life - has been ripped out of my heart and stomped on. I feel like what's the point of being a rising superstar if I don't have anyone to love? I'm just wondering how you feel. What Diana was like. I know Andre was the sweetest guy in the world until I. . .got pregnant the first time."

He kept back a flinch at her mentioning her pregnancies, which he knew ended in miscarriage. . .three times. "I met Diana one day when I was bartending. Not very romantic." He chuckled warmly. "She was the complete opposite of me, every girl I had ever fallen for. Diana always wears dark red lipstick; her hair tends to be messy and she loves fishnet stocking & garters for accessories. There's something very trashy about her now that I think about it, but I was lonely. Cat had just gotten married and she was like, my only friend."

She was leaning on the edge of her seat, her mouth wide open, making her look about ten years younger. With a pang in his heart he remembered what Tori had been like ten years ago, when she was sixteen. He was sixteen. They had so many dreams & expectations for the future. She frowned.

"Well? How did you fall apart? What was life like together?" She asked.

"It was more pity than anything else, I guess. Diana and me dated for a while. . .I should have known there was something messed up when she kept on asking for money and to move into my house or get married. How glad I am we never got married!" A bitter laugh. "She took so much money, Tori, once we moved in together. Money would disappear and I wouldn't know where it went. . .I missed bills. In fact, I even got evicted from my first apartment. That's how I ended up at my current one. Kept on telling myself it would get better. Eventually, I just got fed up with her attitude and decided enough was enough." He sighed. "There's my past six years."

"We've both been through a lot, huh," She commented quietly. "Fuck love!" Both of them burst out laughing, genuine smiles blooming. The sun had now rose, giving the sky a beautiful color she usually missed because of tours or tall skyscrapers or the flashing lights of cameras on the red carpet in foreign countries asking for a picture, please. It was nice feeling normal.

She hadn't felt normal until she met him again.

She bit down on her bottom lip, looking at him once again. But she _really _looked at him. Not through him or past him or a quick glance. She looked.

He didn't have the smoothness of Andre, the charm of European actors who spoke pretty words in a language she didn't understand, the Prince Charming feel of American actors, Beck's natural coolness, or the handsomeness of a normal good-looking guy.

But he was him. Robbie Shapiro. Something so entirely different from any man she had ever fallen for.

She grabbed his hand and breathed in, then out as they watched little kids swinging off of monkey bars and worried mothers warning them to be careful.

Those children had no idea what life would throw at them in the future. She missed those days. Now, though, she was starting over - she was scrapping the same old song and singing a new one. . . and it sounded so good to her tainted ears.


	7. Chapter 7

_I've got people in my ear_

_Telling me these crazy things_

_That I don't want to know_

_-_Glamorous, Fergie

She bit her lip, wide-eyed, staring at the message her 'loving older sister' had just sent her. How was she supposed to reply to this?

_From: __xoxoitstrinababes _

_To: ___

_Hello, baby sis! It's your loving older sister, Trina Vega! Or 'sexy Latina', as my boyfriend likes to call me. . .Ha! I saw on the news about what happened with you and your boo. Well, today, I'm having a photo-shoot for Maxim. . .come visit me? We can catch up, and you can tell me all about what happened._

_P.S. too be honest, babe, I don't get how you could walk away from your relationship with Arnold or Aaron or whatever his name is - he's filthy rich! his new protégé Marisol Cotte's new song is blowing up the charts!_

_Hugs and kisses,_

_Your sissy Trina!_

She laughed bitterly. Little did Trina know, Marisol was one of the many reasons there marriage fell apart. A small - okay, big - part of her didn't want to meet up with her big sister, but she couldn't spend every day moping around Robbie's house and making small talk with Cat and her. . .kid. That was still weird to think about.

Another email popped up in her inbox, this one also from Trina, telling her coming to the photo-shoot was an order.

She sighed. Who was she to deny her 'loving older sister'?

.

.

.

When she walked into the photo-shoot, she couldn't help the disgusted expression she knew crossed her face; second-hand embarrassment and disgust were just some of the emotions that she felt. Well, Trina always said she was going to be famous no matter what it cost. Even if it was her dignity.

Currently, Trina was spread out on a random table, wearing a tiny bikini and red pumps; the cameraman looked like he was drooling all over the floor, and Trina's boyfriend's face was turning red he was so angry.

His face lit up once he saw her, and he ran over. If she remembered correctly, his name was Don, but that was his 'stage name'. He was also a. . .model, if you could call it that, and Trina had met him at another one of her photo-shoots. Don called himself that because he was obsessed with Don Omar. Oh, yes, it was all coming back to her now.

She had to keep back an eye roll.

"Tori, I'm _so _glad you're here. I can't believe the clothes they've been putting Trina in!"

"Does this really count as clothes?" She snorted, glaring at one of the staff members that had been staring down at her every since she stepped through the door.

Don chuckled, one of those over exaggerated ones that were obviously fake. His teeth were perfectly white though, she noted in the back of her mind. "You are so right. You are so funny! I love your new song by the way. You should start promoting it, it's already at the top of the charts." Don winked, flashing his teeth once again.

"It is?" She asked. It wasn't even sarcastic. So much had happened lately checking the charts had not been anywhere near the top of her imaginary to do list. All of the sudden she had a headache coming on. . .she couldn't live in her bubble with Robbie and Cat forever. Soon, she would have to go back too _her _life as a performer, promoting singles and serenading fans and long tours that seem to never stop no matter how famous she gets.

"Tori!" Trina screamed. Her sister came bouncing over, several other body parts bouncing along. She felt like she might throw up if she didn't keep her eyes on Trina's face at all times.

Don was ready to beat up all of the other guys in the room who weren't bothering to hide how they felt about Trina's body.

"Let me talk to her, alone," Trina said softly too the staff, before she was hurrying off.

.

.

.

"So you and Andre are finished," Trina said after a while. "I saw on the news he filed for divorce today. I feel-"

"What?" She screeched, jumping up from the bed. "He's filing for divorce for me?" She couldn't believe it! _He _cheats on her and _he _gets to go on the news talking about filing for divorce?

"Yeah. You didn't get the papers?"

"No!" She shouted, feeling like she might pass out right then and there. She was so fucking angry she didn't know what to do with herself. "That bastard. . ." She trailed off. Her fists tightened. Her eyes blurred with tears and it was hard to make out Trina's face.

"I need to go," she said, her voice still booming. She marched over too the door, pushing it open.

"Wait!" Trina hurried after her. "I can't. . .I mean, you can't be alone like this. . .you're so upset. Let me take you wherever you've been staying at the past month!"

"I'll be fine, Trina. Finish your photo-shoot," she said in the nicest tone of voice she could use right now. But she made sure she didn't turn around so her sister didn't catch the tears falling down her face.

"Goodbye, Trina. I'll talk to you. . .later."

She couldn't figure out how she got home without killing herself and ending it all right there.


	8. Chapter 8

_I've fallen in love and given it everything_

_And I pray this will be my final heartbreak_

_-_Sakura Drops, Utada Hikaru

He watched her from afar, wanting to help, but not knowing how. She was watching some news show that Andre was on, announcing he was filing for divorce. . .and that Marisol was giving him something she could never give. . .a child.

"Robbie, you still there?" Cat said softly. He jumped a little; he had forget she was even on the phone.

"Oh, yeah."

"I don't how someone could be so cruel," Cat said, and he could hear the sadness in her voice. "Tori and Andre were so happy, when they were best friends and when they started dating. If Tori can't have kids, they couldn't have adopted?"

"She looks so depressed," He whispered, not wanting her to hear them talking about her. "I don't know what to do."

"I don't know either."

"I'll talk to you later," He decided to say. Cat wasn't going to be much help.

"Bye, Robbie!" Cat chirped into the phone before she hung up.

She still hadn't moved an inch. He wanted to throw the TV out the window, anything to get her off that couch and back to herself.

"Tori." His voice seemed to echo in the room, it had been silent save for the sound of Andre bragging about how better off he was without her so long, and she visibly shivered at the sound of his voice. He took slow, careful steps over too the TV, and then turned it off. She didn't protest.

"I. . ." She started. She didn't finish.

"Someone's been calling you all morning," he informed her. What he didn't tell her was that her caller ID had said it was her manager, who he was sure wanted her to start doing damage control as soon as possible.

She sighed, picking up her cell. "Wow, twenty missed calls. My manager must be losing it right now." He just stared at her, still not really knowing what to say. "I'm so tired. . .'m always tired."

What could you say to that?

.

.

.

She locked the door behind her, resisting the urge to hang up on her manager. He was practically screaming into the phone now. "Monroe, wait - I know, this is bad press - but please, breathe for a minute. Yelling about it won't help the situation."

Her manager was silent for a moment. In the background, she could vaguely hear Andre & Marisol's interview she had been watching. She didn't even notice her fists tightening.

"I got you an interview with Oprah," Monroe said unenthusiastically, like having an interview with Oprah was an everyday thing.

"Wait, what? When? Where? I don't even - I can't -" She was so shocked she couldn't talk without stuttering. Meeting Oprah was big. It was _huge. _Who knows what questions she could be asked? Something could set her off, it could send her off the edge. It had been a little over a month since the breakup. . .her wounds were fresh, and if she was to be honest she was nowhere near being healed.

"Damage control needs to happen immediately. This bastard is trying to ruin all my hard work - I mean, your career. He's not getting away with it. Be ready in two weeks for Oprah to come too wherever you live now. Where do you live, by the way?"

She gulped. Monroe already sounded close to a heart attack; hearing that his record label's rising star was living with a bartender in a dingy apartment, sleeping in the same bed every night, and possibly developing feelings for him would only make it worse.

So she lied.

"I'm staying with my parents," She lied. It felt like there was a rock in her stomach. She had never liked lying. "I'll have the Oprah interview there."

"Great." Monroe sighed one last time, before he hung up.

All of the sudden she couldn't find energy to stay on her feet. A million and one thoughts were running through her head as she sagged against the door and her eyes closed; the peace that sleep finally brought her was welcomed.

.

.

.

The next day she woke up tucked into the bed, with breakfast waiting right next to her. "That's probably why I woke up," she said under her breath; she was still sleepy but there was a smile sneaking onto her face. Last night had been absolutely horrible. . .but lately, it seemed like she could depend on him to make it better. That sounded more like love than worrying whether or not you were being cheated on and arguing 24/7.

"Tor, you up?" She heard him ask softly.

"Yeah, come in here, cutie," she shouted out. Was she flirting with him? Yeah. She was. He came in the bedroom - there was an obvious blush on his face.

"Cutie?" His voice came out like a squeak and his blush got even redder.

She giggled. "I. . .you got this breakfast for me, right?" He nodded. "And tucked me in?" He nodded, again. "No one has ever done that for me before. So, to me, that makes you a cutie." She couldn't hide her smile anymore.

"No one has ever done that for you?" His eyes widened. "If you and me were together, I -" He stopped midway. "You know, I'm gonna stop while I'm ahead."

"Robbie," Her smile got even wider, "I want to know. Finish what you were saying - if you and me were together, I. . ."

"I would do anything to keep you," he finished. "I wouldn't deserve someone like you."

"No," she said, beginning to rise from the bed. "I wouldn't deserve you." She walked over too him, looking him straight in the eye.

"This feels strangely. . ." He started. His palms were starting to get sweaty and he could hear her heavy breathing.

"Intimate," she finished. "This feels intimate. Why is that? Is there. . .something, between us?" She stopped for a second, trying to - to do anything, to calm herself down or. . .get her sanity back, something. She didn't have time to be falling in love, and she couldn't do this right now. Not with. . .Robbie Shapiro. . .a bartender. Or maybe. . .she could.

He laughed nervously, toying with his fingers. "Well, I've got to get too work, see you later!" Then he was running out the door like he was at the Olympics.

She breathed in, then out.

.

.

.

Andre Harris tired to calm himself, not feeling like another fight tonight. Marisol was already screaming at the top of her lungs, and she was starting to throw out Spanish phrases in the middle of her rant like she always did when she was angry.

"You hear what they are saying about me? The media, everyone, my family! My familia is calling me, they asking, I heard you broke up a marriage. I heard you are a home wrecker. Is it true?" Marisol pushed him, making him stumble back a little. "What am I supposed to say?"

"You knew I was married," he said simply, throwing up his hands.

"Well, yes, but no one would have known if you didn't drag me on the news! We could have came up with a way to break it too the public, did some damage control."

Andre decided to do some damage control of his own, taking Marisol's hands into his own. "Look, Mari. . .mi amor. This isn't what _us _is about. Don't you remember what I told you when this relationship first started? You and me, we make music together. Beautiful music. You're smart, funny, and happy.

Once all of the miscarriages happened and Tori found out she couldn't have kids and our careers got in the way, we were miserable. With you, I wanted to start over. But if you and me are going to end up just like Tori and me ended up, we should end this right now."

Marisol started to cry, saying random gibberish in between her sobs. Andre tried to calm her down, but it was no use.

"I think - I need some time to think," She told him, as she started to get herself together. "I'll be back tomorrow."

"Marisol, wait!" He cried out; Andre couldn't be alone, wouldn't be alone. He had never been so needy for attention. . .but once his grandmother died, his father followed a year later, and his mother went too Africa, he felt more alone than ever. And now. . .Marisol was leaving him, just like everyone else.

Andre couldn't hold it in anymore.

He broke down, falling to his knees, a strangled cry escaping his lips.

"Andre, man, you've got to get yourself together!"

He jumped, falling over, trying to identify the voice. "Beck?"

"Yeah, it's me. You called me over here. . .and then I saw you on the news with Marisol - speaking of her, I ran into her in the lobby, and she told me you guys had a fight?"

Andre stopped crying just as quick as he had started. "Damn it, Beck, I don't feel like talking!" He walked away from his friend, stomping up the stairs. He could hear the other man following.

"I don't think you should be alone. So what, are you and Marisol breaking up?"

"I don't know!" Andre took a deep breath, trying to calm down. Beck was one of the few people not pissed off with him; Jade had said something like, 'Vega gets on my nerves a lot but she doesn't deserve your shit. I'm never fucking talking to you again Harris.' Trina had left him an angry voicemail. . .he couldn't even count the angry fan mail he'd received from Tori's fan club. Apparently Marisol was angry now, too, to go along with the ever growing list.

"Marisol has my baby now anyway," Andre grumbled. "You know I've always wanted a kid."

Beck sighed, running a hand through his hair. Both men had stopped climbing the stairs. "I don't want you to get mad. . .but please, explain to me why you left Tori. I don't get it. You could have adopted. I thought you guys had a pretty good marriage, and cheating seems way out of character for you."

"My life has changed a lot in the past few years. Same for you and your. . .wife, Jade. Still can't believe you two ended up staying together after everything." Beck chuckled. "Me and Tori, we started growing apart. She was nagging me, she was always depressed, always accusing me of being with other women. . .so I decided, if she thinks I'm cheating anyway, why don't I just cheat? Even if she hadn't saw me and Marisol at the club we would have been in the process of divorce. I had the papers ready."

Beck still looked skeptical. "Are you sure you don't want to be with Tori? You spent a long time together."

"Yes," Andre replied. "I think so."

Beck gave Andre a light push on the shoulder, and he was visibly frustrated. "Man, you better be sure! I heard that 'think'. Tori is pretty and successful. . .I even dated her for a week or so once. Any man would want to be with her. By the time you decide you made a mistake, she'll already have moved on."

Andre sighed. "But I. . .I don't know."


	9. Chapter 9

"_She's the kinda girl you wanna marry_

_Untouchable she's got her own force field_"

-Wanna Love You, Robin Thicke

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.

.

"Hello, anybody home?" Beck said loudly, knocking on the door. He couldn't quite believe that she would actually be staying here, with Robbie Shapiro from high school, in a low-key apartment. It wasn't very fitting for a rising superstar.

"Why are we here?" Jade groaned. Her almost permanent frown was in place, but as always she looked pretty. Jade was wearing a sparkly black dress that clung in all the right places - she had only bought it yesterday - and didn't want to mess it up by searching all over the world for her.

"Because I'm worried about Tori, she's _our _friend and I want to make sure she's okay," Beck replied, starting to get irritated.

"Well, I hope you're not going to try to convince her to get back with Andre," Jade rolled her eyes, "they're over, and they need to be over. He cheated on her!"

Beck sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Is anyone home?"

Finally, the door opened.

Cat was standing behind it, eyes wide, mouth open. "Beck? . . .Jade?"

"Oh my God, Cat!" Jade called out, and in a move that surprised all three of them, Jade was _hugging _Cat. She pulled away. "What are you doing here?"

"What are you doing here? I haven't seen you in years!" Cat squeaked.

"I was looking for Tori," Beck said slowly, "I think I have the wrong apartment though."

"No, this is the right place." Cat smiled. "I was visiting Tori and Robbie."

Beck reached over to ruffle Cat's hair. "It's great to see you again - really! But, um, do you know how-"

"Or why," Jade added in.

"Tori ended up living with Robbie?" Beck finished.

"I'm not sure how they ended up together," Cat said quietly. "But it's right. They really like each other, I think."

"Like?" Beck repeated. "I've got to talk to Tori!" He hurried into the apartment, because he _needed _to find out what was going on.

Jade huffed, not really caring enough about 'The Great Vega Mystery' to go dashing off with her husband. "So, Cat, you told me you had a kid?"

Cat nodded excitedly. Her hair, which was in curls, bounced along with her, making her look more like a little kid than a twenty six year old mother and wife. "Come meet her!"

.

.

.

She looked up from their intertwined hands to face Beck, a blush starting to become noticeable on her cheeks. "Beck, w-what are you doing here?"

"So this is where you were?" Beck asked, answering her question with a question. "Why didn't you just tell me?"

"I don't-"

"Oh, hey, Robbie!" The two men nodded at each other. "Haven't seen you in years. . .man, today I ran into Cat, now you. . .who am I going to see next, Sikowitz?"

All of them laughed, though everyone could feel the awkward tension in the room.

"I'm sorry, Beck," she said quietly, still staring at her fingers that were intertwined with his. "I should've told you where I was. . .I didn't tell anyone. Are my parents worried?"

"Yeah," Beck admitted, wincing a little. What he wanted to say was _"they're driving themselves crazy trying to find you are you crazy you're not even divorced yet do you even know who robbie is anymore" _but he didn't. All he could say was. . .nothing.

"Well, Jade and me will be going now," Beck said after a while. "I'll talk to you later, I guess. I'm going to make sure your parents know you're okay."

Beck turned around, heading towards the door, but before he left he turned back around. Facing the couple, he sighed, "Good luck," before leaving.

For some reason she felt like a weight was lifted off her chest and for the first time since she started whatever was happening between him and her she felt free - truly happy.

It was a weird feeling.

.

_._

_._

"Hello?" Andre asked, trying to be as quiet as possible. Marisol had finally came home and was sleeping in the bed. If she knew why he was calling Beck. . .he couldn't imagine how angry she would be.

"She doesn't want you," Beck spit out, not even feeling like sugarcoating it. Jade was still going on and on about how cute Cat's daughter was and other stuff he didn't care about.

"What? Man, you got to back up - what made you jump to that conclusion?"

"I found out where Robbie lives and went there. They were holding hands and shit."

"So you're saying they're together?" Andre felt his palms starting to get sweaty and his voice was starting to crack. _He _left her. He was supposed to be the happy one. . .not her.

"I don't know why you sound like that," Beck snapped, unable to keep the bite out of his voice. "You ruined the relationship. You cheated."

"You don't understand! I was confused," Andre muttered the last part, realizing his voice was starting to get louder. Marisol was a light sleeper and was already shifting in her sleep.

"Well she's moved on and you've got a pregnant girlfriend. You made your decisions and not you've got to live with them. We're still friends but this is your life." Beck didn't have the energy to go back and forth with him anymore; he felt no remorse when he hung up the phone in the middle of Andre's next sentence.

"Baby, who was that?" Marisol muttered into the darkness.

"No one."

.

_._

_._

She shifted in the darkness, trying to get comfortable. Tomorrow she had her interview with Oprah, and had to get up at six in the morning. . .something she definitely wasn't looking forward to.

And now her phone was ringing.

She was ready to ignore it until she saw that it was Trina calling her. "It could be important. Just answer it and see what she wants," she told herself. There had to be a reason her sister would call at two a.m.

"Hello?" She asked, trying to be as quiet as possible.

"You're staying with a bartender?" Trina yelled into the phone. "This is _not _going to work. I'm picking you up right now!"

"Trina!" She whisper-yelled back, starting to get annoyed. "You don't-"

"Tori! Just go back to Andre!"

"He cheated on me!"

"It's better than a bartender! How am I ever supposed to get famous if my baby sister is shacking up with a bartender?"

"Oh, I am _so _not shacking up," she said, her voice starting to get lower. He was starting to move around in his sleep.

"I'm telling Mom and Dad," Trina replied. She could just picture Trina flipping her hair over her shoulder and scowling.

The weird feeling was coming back. Usually other people's opinions bothered her. She would have standards and requirements of a boyfriend. Never would she have pictured herself with him. Why were things so different with him? Why was she breaking all of her rules and guidelines?

Was it because he was different than all of the other guys?

She looked over at him again. He was lightly snoring and had stopped moving around. His chest was rising up and down.

"Tori," Trina breathed into the phone.

"I'm going back to bed." She ended the call, and the silence afterwards was comforting.

Her phone beeped again, telling her she had a new text message from Trina.

_From: Trina_

_If you're happy with bartender/loser/kid from high school why haven't you told anyone about it? Why aren't you telling everyone about your love for him? I know you aren't going to tell Oprah about it tomorrow. To me, it seems like if you really were happy with him and over Andre you'd be telling everyone about it. Just saying._

She groaned, throwing her phone to the ground. Trina was right - she was so right. And it killed her.

She wasn't over Andre. She needed closure, and she was getting it tonight.


	10. Chapter 10

"_Don't let me be_

_the last to know_"

-_Don't Let Me Be the Last to Know, Britney Spears_

_._

_._

_._

Andre's heart pounded as his palms started to get sweaty, and he could feel his leg shaking slightly. A nervous laugh bubbled up to the top of his throat. This night was like a flashback to Tori and his' first date, all those years ago, and Andre could clearly remember celebrating with Beck about "getting out of the friend zone, _finally_." He was still in shock. Tori had been so mad before about Marisol, but after he begged for awhile it seemed like she had gave in. If Marisol still wasn't sleeping he would have whooped in shock, probably.

"There she is," Andre whispered to himself. He couldn't stop thinking about the hell storm that would result if Marisol woke up before he came back and found out where exactly he was - but if Tori was his wife again, none of that would matter, as long as he still gets to be with his son. What had he ever saw in someone like his current girlfriend? Sure, she knew how to have fun, which was something Tori didn't do much of nowadays, but she was to immature and her temper was horrible. Andre Harris needed Tori Vega. Hopefully, she would be going home with him soon.

She had made sure to wear her new dress, a sky blue one that stopped at her mid-thigh, and was very shimmery in the night. Her hair was pulled up in a messy bun, the wisps of hair not up flying with the wind of the night, and she liked to think the short high-heels really completed the look. Her goal? To make Andre Harris be like putty in her hand. Judging by the leg shaking, sweat, and nervous laughing she was doing good so far.

"Hi." She didn't say more than that. What could she say? Though Andre assumed he was forgiven. . .he wasn't. Why _was _she here? Maybe it was closure. .or revenge. Most likely revenge, she decided, waiting for Andre to say something. Meeting out here in the middle of the night was his suggestion in the first place.

"I missed you," Andre started, gauging her reaction. At the blank look on her face he decided it would be in his best interest to elaborate. "Marisol. . .you know that saying, 'the grass isn't always greener on the other side'? It's completely right. I messed up. I want you back. Since you met me out here, I'm going to guess you want me back, too. So let's. . .be back together." Andre exhaled, suddenly scared by the angry expression she was wearing.

"Never." Her voice was cold; there was no emotion, and she realized, and was almost startled by the realization, that _this _was what closure felt like. As she looked at Andre, there were no butterflies or nervousness or really anything other than anger she felt. She wasn't even that angry anymore.

"I think that maybe I pity you now," she said slowly, "because you're stuck in a relationship destined for failure and now that bitch of yours is pregnant. No matter what you do you've got that baby. You'll never be completely rid of Marisol. Me? I have Robbie, who's amazing. So. .good luck, I guess." She laughs, _actually _laughs, because this is all just funny now. "We were good friends - best friends once, but that's all ruined now thanks to you."

His eyes were wide, and every time he tried to say something all that came out was a choking sound. "Tori, you can't be serious-I apologized! Please, just come home. I love you, I realize that now!" Andre fell to his knees, at her feet. Exactly what she had wanted; for him to feel all the emotions she felt when she found him having sex with Marisol in _their _bed, in _their _house, and later when he was on TV proclaiming their love for the world. She had felt like putty in his hands, and now judging by his reaction, he was like putty in her hands. Revenge was bad, good girls like her knew that, but if what was happening right now was bad she didn't want to do right.

"Why would you agree to meet me if you were going to reject me?" Andre yelled out, and now he was clawing at her legs, and she's actually kind of scared now. Andre could get pretty violent when he's pushed to his limits.

"You're the same old song," she said quietly, willing for a strength she's never had to come to here now. "I'm making a new song, now. You're not a lyric in this one. I'll always have the memories of the time we had together. They were good times, I admit it."

She breathed in, then out.

"We're done."

As she walked away she didn't look back once.

.

.

.

"Robbie!" She yelped. Who knew he was such a heavy sleeper?

His eyes popped open, and he clutched at his heart. "Don't scare me like that!" The first thing he noticed was how beautiful she was with her up like that. The second thing he noticed was the new dress she was wearing. The third thing he noticed was the box of donuts in her hand, and he swears his eyes almost rolled out of his head.

"Donuts! What kind are those?" He asked. He couldn't even be mad she had waked him up. Deep down inside he knew he would never get seriously upset with her, but he didn't feel like dealing with all of those feelings. They could really complicate everything.

"Glazed," She replied, trying not to seem to excited, "Isn't that your favorite?"

"Girl!" He shouted, and she barely got her laugh out before he grabbed the box from her and was shoving them in his mouth at a rapid pace.

She giggled, rolling over to sit up next to him in the bed, holding her knees to her chest. There was a big smile on her face, and she didn't even bother to try to get a donut from him.

"Isn't your Oprah interview tomorrow, at noon?" He said in between inhaling donuts. "You should be sleeping."

She rolled her eyes, winking at him to make sure he knew she was only joking. "Okay, Dad!"

"I know you didn't sleep in that," he said, changing the subject abruptly. "Why are you wearing a dress and heels all of the sudden?" He had stopped eating and now he was staring her in the eye. His gaze made every hair on her arm stand up and she felt hot all of the sudden.

"I'm not going to lie to you. I met up with Andre," she blurted out. His whole face dropped and she immediately told him what had happened only minutes ago, a smile blooming when he was happy again, assured they weren't getting back together.

"That's great, Tor." He looked down at his hands folded up in his lap. "That's really great."

"You know, Robbie, I want to thank you for being there for me when no one else was. You're the only one of my friends and family to encourage me to follow my heart about Andre and pretty much everything else in my life. I'm starting to feel like this is honestly my life now." She laid her hands on top of his, hoping maybe she could communicate how deep her feelings were for him like this, and he felt the same way. That the new song she was working on could work, and was better than the old song with Andre. That she could depend on him and be happy with him.

She knew he got the message when he kissed her, long and sweet and everything she could have hoped for. When he pulled away his expression was serious, though.

"Don't let me be the last to know. . .anything. That's the only way this will work," He says after a while, still making direct eye contact. "Dana used to keep things from me all the time, so don't do that, please. I can't go through all that again."

She chuckled, lightly, holding his hand tighter. "After what happened with Andre? I could never do that to anyone." She laces their fingers together, and kisses him again.

When he pulls away, there's finally a smile on his face again, and she feels happy to just know she _made _that smile.

"Can I finish my donuts now?" He asked, and she busted out laughing, tears forming in her eyes.

"Only if I have one! I _did _buy them, you know." They smile at each other, and she knows that she's going to regret staying up all night when she's waking up at noon tomorrow - or, today. She couldn't find it in her to care that much about Oprah.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: **After this there's an epilogue, and then that's it! :O What should my next story be about? Give me ideas in your reviews!

.

"_Call me crazy shit,_

_at least you calling_"

-_Fabolous & Cassie & Trey Songz, Diced Pineapples _

.

.

.

"You need to calm down," her manager told her, laying a hand on her leg that had been shaking ever since she sat down. "There's no need to be nervous."

Her mouth fell open a little, and she jerked her head around to glare at him. "No need to be nervous? I'm about to have an interview with Oprah freaking Winfrey and there's no need to be nervous?" She shuddered, returning her gaze to the ground. "You're insane."

Monroe sighed, then, and decided it was a lost cause. He went over to stand where the camera and makeup crew were, fussing over what blush would make her look good on TV and if Oprah's favorite kind of coffee was on set.

But all of the chaos stopped as soon as the woman herself set foot in the restaurant the interview was taking place in. _Oprah_. She couldn't even move or be nervous anymore and she could barely breathe because she was about to get interviewed by Oprah! How famous she had become, all of the fans she must have, how she has a single in the top ten of the Billboard charts. . .it all hit her like a ton of bricks, right at that moment - as Oprah was giving her a hug, shaking her hand, telling her how big of a fan she was.

She took a sharp intake of breath. Now, she was even more nervous than she was before Oprah arrived. There were stylists all around her, armed with hairspray and plucking her eyebrows and endless tubes of lipstick. As the director started, in monotone, _"1. .2. ."_ she held her breath and sucked her stomach in. All of the sudden she felt like an idiot for not going to the gym for months. What had she been thinking?

"_You haven't," _a smarter, stronger Tori in her head whispered. _"All you've been thinking about is Robbie and Andre."_

"_3. .4. And, action!"_ The director shouted, and Oprah sat up just a little straighter in her seat, a huge smile on her face.

"Thank you for agreeing to this interview with me," Oprah chuckled, shaking her hand once again. It took her awhile to find her voice before she replied, "Oh, no, thank _you _for wanting to interview _me._"

"You're so cute!" Oprah squealed, then. A waiter came over to their table, serving them two chicken salads. She hated chicken salad. "You like chicken salad, right?" Oprah asked, already picking up a fork and attacking hers.

"Of course," She lied. Her acting skills came into play when she avoided cringing when she started eating.

The interview went by so fast she could barely remember any of the questions Oprah asked her; the whole day was a blur, but she knew it was full of lies she didn't even feel guilty about anymore.

.

.

.

He sighed, taking off his tie as he went to open the door. There was no need to ask who it was - the only person who visited him regularly was Cat, her husband, and their daughter. _She _had a key.

When he opened the door, standing outside it was, not surprisingly, Cat. The small woman giggled, twirling her hair around her finger. "Is Tori home yet?"

He grunted in response, walking over to his couch and sinking into it. Cat followed and she was visibly upset. "Okay, what's wrong, Robbie? Did you guys have a fight or something. . ." Cat trailed off.

"We didn't have a fight, it's just. . .you can't tell Tori about what I'm going to tell you," He said, making sure Cat knew he was dead serious. She nodded, her eyes wide.

"I promise, I won't tell her!" Cat did a crossing motion over her heart. "You can trust me." She pushed him further down the couch so she could sit next to him. "Tell me, please. . ."

"Okay," He breathed, looking Cat directly in the eyes. He's known her long enough to know when she was telling the truth, and this was one of those times. "I don't like how Tori doesn't want us to be, like, exclusive. Her parents don't know that we're together, they just think she's crashing here until she can find a place, and last night she told me when Oprah asks her where she's been living since her breakup with Andre she's going to say with Trina." He took another deep breath, cradling his head in his hands.

"Then, tell Tori you don't like you guys' relationship being a secret," Cat said in her usual airy tone, now confused. "How is that hard? When I have a problem with my husband we talk it out and compromise or something."

He raised an eyebrow. "What are you trying to say?"

Cat started playing with her hair again, biting her lip. "If the two of you truly love each other you can tell Tori how you feel and she'll listen and she won't keep the relationship a secret."

He opened his mouth, ready to ask another question, but Cat quickly got up from the couch.

"What'cha ya say, sweetie? You need me to open something? I'll be right there!" Cat exclaimed, like she was replying to someone, even though he knew no one had called for her. Some things about Cat didn't change. . .

"Sorry, Robbie, I have to go!" Cat patted his shoulder, and dashed out of the room like her life depended on it.

He stretched out on the couch once again. He had a lot to think about before she got back from that interview.

.

.

.

She breathed in, then out.

"Which apartment, Tor?" Her dad asked, struggling with the two boxes and duffel bag he was trying to carry. Her mom shook her head before taking the duffel bag from him, giggling quietly.

"This one," She replied quietly. Her mom shot her a _look _and she knew that her mother had an idea of why she had seemed so unhappy all day. That was going to be yet another problem.

She struggled getting the key in the lock, because her hands were shaking and her Mom was staring the back of her head down. When she finally opened the door, he was sitting upright in a chair in the direction of the door. His eyes were red and he looked utterly exhausted.

"Tori?" He croaked, his voice hoarse. He then swallowed, probably trying to get his normal tone of voice back.

"Dad," She said, turning her back on him, in more ways than one, "my clothes are in the left drawer in that room right over there." She pointed to it, making sure both of her parents were in that room before she turned her attention to him.

"Why do you look so -" She started, but he cut her off before she could finish.

"I waited up all night for you. I was really fucking worried, I thought something happened!" He whisper-screamed, and now she felt like a horrible person, because how was she supposed to know he would do that? Andre would have went on to bed, assuming that if something was up it would already be on TMZ. He. . .he cared so much.

"Look, I'm not breaking up with you. I've only realized we're moving to fast and getting way to serious. We're both still getting over major relationships and I think we're both rebounding right now. We probably don't even like each other that much. The both of us just needed to feel loved for a while, maybe?" She whimpered, not liking the way his fists were tightening. "I feel like I'm talking to myself. Say something, Robbie - I don't want you to be mad at me. It's like. . .we're in very different stages of life right now. Our relationship wouldn't work. I just want to focus on my career."

"You're crazy," He laughed, bitterly, shaking his hand. "You say we're not breaking up but then you go into this huge speech about why _us _wouldn't work."

She whimpered again. What _was _she doing? Lately her life was a mystery to even herself. "I'm not breaking up with you," She decided to say. "I'm making our relationship less serious."

"How can it get any less serious? The only people who know we're together are Jade, Beck, Trina, and Cat and you didn't tell any of them." He laughed again, but it sounded more like a bark. "You say you're not breaking up with me."

Silence.

"Well, I'm breaking up with you," He said, not looking at her.

"I think we have everything!" Her mom chirped, walking over to where she was standing. Her dad followed, and if they noticed the tension, they didn't say anything.

The ride to her parents' home was silent; silence she welcomed, because there was nothing left for her to say. She still couldn't find her voice.

.

.

.

He stared at the phone, and it was like there was a war going on inside of him. Her name - _'Tori' _- was flashing up at him, like it had been doing for weeks now. Why would she move out if she was going to call him obsessively? He had ignored at least twenty phone calls, and she was still calling more than twice a day. She made absolutely no sense.

Finally, he decided it wasn't like he had anything better to do, so even if he was still pissed off he could at least hear what she had to say. It was five a.m., and he had just gotten home from work - the bar closed at three, but some idiot had to many drinks and threw up everywhere, so of course he had to clean it up. He was utterly exhausted and sleep wasn't coming anytime soon. When she had been here, he slept as soon as he came home. Always. Did he love her more than she loved him? After the stunt she'd pulled, he must have.

As soon as he pressed 'Answer' he heard her gasp. "Oh my God. .you answered."

He stayed silent.

"I guess you're not talking to me." Pause. "You're upset."

Silence.

"I did what I thought - what I _know _- is best. We shouldn't be entering into some huge love affair right after we had long relationships end. We're only twenty-six. . .we need to get some life experience, I think."

Silence.

"Can't you say something?"

"You're crazy," He said slowly, drawing out every syllable.

Silence.

"How am I crazy?" She said, and it sounded like she was saying it through her teeth, like maybe he had offended her and it made him happy because words couldn't express how angry he was when she gave him no information about her whereabouts all night and then showed up in the morning saying she was moving out.

"You keep on contradicting yourself. You even want to be with me, or you don't. If you want to be with me then you shouldn't hide what we have or had going on. If you don't want to be with me then you need to stop calling and leave me alone."

Silence.

He hung up, throwing his phone across the room, not even worrying about it breaking. He didn't have energy to care about much of anything anymore. He laid in silence for a few minutes, hours maybe, before he sat up, getting rid of his pajamas and putting on work clothes again. If he was going to do nothing but mope he may as well do some overtime at the bar - if anyone needed more money, it was him. Even though the overtime was cleaning the bar up and running errands for the manager, something he usually hated and tried to avoid, it was better than sitting alone in the dark thinking about. .her. Much better.

.

.

.

"You should leave early tonight," his boss shouted in his ear, grabbing at his shoulder. "You worked last night and did overtime earlier."

He shook his head furiously, pulling a liquor bottle up onto the counter and pouring drinks. "Don't want to go home." His boss raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything more.

All of the customers in front of him were like a blur, one big watercolor painting of desperation and alcohol that was falling apart. He hated this fucking job. He was supposed to be a famous puppeteer, touring everywhere with Rex and making people laugh. How did he get here? All of the innocence and naiveté he had when he was younger was long gone; replaced by the harsh realities life had brought him. His job also brought him back to her, and that was another reason to hate this job.

A loud sob made him jerk his head up and his heartbeat speed up. He knew that sob, he could remember hearing it like it was yesterday. She was clawing at the arms of another one of the bartenders, tears running down her face but her makeup stayed intact.

_That waterproof stuff really _is _waterproof, _he couldn't help thinking, as he watched the situation unfold in front of him. The bartender was frowning, looking at him hoping to most likely get help, because she was yelling _Robbie, just give another me drink _and that day that felt like years ago but was really only three months ago flashed through his head. Even though he wanted to still be mad at her, not even get involved in all of the complicated things that comes with being with her, he can't.

The bartender smiles gratefully at him when he takes her out of his arms, and he drags her into that same bathroom. He wants to laugh at the irony. She plops down onto the floor, again, and rubs at her arms, again.

He walks back and forth with his arms crossed against his chest, again, and stares with a blank face, again.

"I messed up," She grits out through clenched teeth. She hated admitting she was wrong.

He fell to his knees and hugged her tightly, grimacing slightly when her nails dug into his back.

"You're right, I am crazy," She continued. "After everything that Andre did to me I should be grateful for you."

Cat's words rang in his head. "We can't be a secret kind of thing," He said. "Keeping me a secret is being ashamed of me."

"I-" She started, but she bit her lip before she said anything else. "You're right."

He breathed in, then out. "When you're not used to being treated good, you push away the people who treat you that way. . ." He said, rubbing a hand up and down her back.

"You didn't come up with that," She said slowly, pulling away from him. "I've heard that before!"

They stared at each other, before they both started laughing hysterically, a result of exhaustion and finally feeling absolutely and truly happy.


	12. A New Song

"_Palms to the sky, we unite_

_I'm feeling, feeling, feeling it_

_**We rise tonight**_"

- Rita Ora, Radioactive

To everyone who has supported this story - thank you. I hope you love this epilogue, and don't forget to give me one last review! :D

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He fiddled with his tie, struggling to get it on properly; his hands were sweaty and his heart was racing. She came up behind him, snaking her hands around his waist, but nothing could calm his nerves.

"Calm down," She laughed, turning him around so she could fix his tie. He smiled gratefully. "You've been on stage plenty of times before."

"I know, but none of those performances with Rex were as important as this one tonight. This could change everything if it goes well." He turned back around once she was finished and patted down his curls, even though they looked the same once he had. He was unsatisfied with what he was seeing in the mirror - that was nothing new. Why would anyone ever think he was funny and give him an opportunity to do the one thing he wanted to do and let him finally leave that God awful bartender job? "This was a stupid idea. I don't know why I let you talk me into this. . ."

"Robbie, stop! You're going to be amazing," She said, rubbing his back gently.

Beck came into his dressing room, Jade and Cat right on his heels. "You're on next, man," He told him. "Hope I didn't interrupt anything."

She giggled. "Shut up, Beck. Did you save me a seat?"

"Of course!" Cat chirped, skipping out the door. Her and Beck shot each other a look before they both started laughing, while Jade just shook her head and sighed. He watched them go, to nervous to be amused by Cat's antics.

This performance needed to be perfect.

.

.

.

Beck and Jade leaned into each other, whispering amongst themselves the way people who have been together for a long time do. She toyed with the to-big bracelet she had bought yesterday. Would her and him be like that one day?

"I'm so happy for Robbie," Cat said airily. "This is all he's ever wanted."

"You can have one, too," she replied, "another chance." She watched Cat's reaction; the way the small woman exhaled and rubbed at her eyes, like there were a million thoughts in her head.

Cat finally said softly, "If you would have asked me years ago, I would have said yes. Now, I have a family - a daughter and a husband. There's no time for. . .all of that."

She started to protest, to say, 'That shouldn't stop you!' but all of sudden she got it. She understood - there were certain responsibilities Cat had now that none of them could understand, and Cat was in a totally different stage of life.

Those weird thoughts popped up again, making anxiety began to eat at her. Would she and him ever want kids? Could she even had kids? They had been together for a year now, and he had told her if he got picked up by the agent for the TV show he would get a new, big house for them to leave in together. Things like kid were definitely going to come up soon - they were 27 now - and marriage, too. Was she emotionally ready for another marriage? Andre had been a year ago, yes, but there were still so many trust issues she had carried over.

She sighed. "So, Cat, how old is your daughter?"

Cat beamed up at her, and began chattering away, answering her question and any other possible ones, but she was barely paying attention.

This anxiety just wouldn't go away.

.

.

.

". . .And I have been Robbie Shapiro! Thank you so much Club DNA!" He bowed, the thunderous applause so surreal it felt like he was dreaming. He was aware of the how violently his hands shook as he put the microphone up and bowed once again. The owner joined him on stage and patted him on the back.

"Woo, Mr. Shapiro, you are hilarious! I don't know how you could have ever ended up a bartender," the owner chuckled, "One day you'll be a star, I know it."

She looked at the blond wig she had put on, and put a finger to her face that was covered in makeup; she had made sure no one would recognize her, because this was his big night, and if someone got up and started asking for photographs she would never forgive herself. Jade and Beck hadn't thought about disguises at all, and already had signed about forty autographs and a few pictures. She was _already _a star, and lately, she was feeling like none of the bullshit was worth it.

.

.

.

"Man, you were great! I'll see you tomorrow? We have so much to catch up on, still. Ten years of no talking is a long time," Beck chuckled, an arm wrapped protectively around Jade, who was smirking mischievously at every girl who stared at Beck for more than two seconds.

"Definitely!" he replied, giving him a firm handshake. She watched from afar, Cat standing next to her.

"Talk to him about everything you're feeling," Cat advised, like she had read her mind. Maybe it was that mother's intuition thing? "Maybe you should go away together for a while."

"Go away?" She repeated.

"Like a vacation," Cat said, before she was dashing off after Beck and Jade, yelling, "Don't leave me, you're my ride, and I still have to cook dinner!"

She laughed quietly, shaking her head. A vacation. . .when was the last time she had a vacation?

"What's up, Tor?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Do you want to go somewhere - like a vacation? We can talk about things, like, our future and it can take your mind off of the TV show until you get a call from that director dude." It all rushed out, and she didn't even realize what she had actually said until it was already out.

The couple stared at each other in silence for awhile, before he said -

"I would love that."

They slowly smiled, coming closer and closer together until their hands joined and their lips met and she could feel his heartbeat if she wanted to until they pulled away, and -

They breathed in, then out.


End file.
